Placing Bruno—both advanced philosopher and magician burned at the stake—in the Hermetic tradition, Yates's acclaimed study gives an overview not only of Renaissance humanism but of its interplay—and conflict—with magic and occult practices. "Among those who have explored the intellectual world of the sixteenth century no one in England can rival Miss Yates. Wherever she looks, she illuminates. Now she has looked on Bruno. This brilliant book takes time to digest, but it is an intellectual adventure to read it. (...) Historians of ideas, of religion, and of science will study it. Some of them, after reading it, will have to think again.... For Miss Yates has put Bruno, for the first time, in his tradition, and has shown what that tradition was."—Hugh Trevor-Roper, _New Statesman_ "A decisive contribution to the understanding of Giordano Bruno, this book will probably remove a great number of misrepresentations that still plague the tormented figure of the Nolan prophet."—Giorgio de Santillana, _American Historical Review_ "Yates's book is an important addition to our knowledge of Giordano Bruno. But it is even more important, I think, as a step toward understanding the unity of the sixteenth century."—J. Bronowski, _New York Review of Books_. (shrink)

In his writing, Gilles Deleuze drew on a vast array of source material, from philosophy and psychoanalysis to science and art. Yet scholars have largely neglected one of the intellectual currents underlying his work: Western esotericism, specifically the lineage of hermetic thought that extends from Late Antiquity into the Renaissance through the work of figures such as Iamblichus, Nicholas of Cusa, Pico della Mirandola, and Giordano Bruno. In this book, Joshua Ramey examines the extent to which Deleuze's ethics, metaphysics, (...) and politics were informed by, and can only be fully understood through, this hermetic tradition. Identifying key hermetic moments in Deleuze's thought, including his theories of art, subjectivity, and immanence, Ramey argues that the philosopher's work represents a kind of contemporary hermeticism, a consistent experiment in unifying thought and affect, percept and concept, and mind and nature in order to engender new relations between knowledge, power, and desire. By uncovering and clarifying the hermetic strand in Deleuze's work, Ramey offers both a new interpretation of Deleuze, particularly his insistence that the development of thought demands a spiritual ordeal, and a framework for retrieving the pre-Kantian paradigm of philosophy as spiritual practice. (shrink)

The present article regards the influence exerted by the Hermetic philosophy on the original works of one of the last representatives of Tarnovo literary school – Konstantin Kostenechki. They are found not only in the explicit mention of Hermest Trismegist in “The Biography of Stefan Larzarević” among philosophes to whom God has partly revealed “the truth” but also in one long and sophisticated syllogism where God Father is presented as “Mind” and “The Sources of the First Mind”. Some specific (...) terms, the description of the Serbian anchorites and one unusual transformation of the Gospel text (Mathew 6:6) also must be ascribed to Hermetic influence. All of these hermetic elements most probably have been loaned from Greek sources having included fragments of “Corpus Hermeticum” and some other hermetic texts. (shrink)

Deals with Vaughan's connection with the "Occult" philosophy which his brother Thomas embraced & practiced & discusses Henry's indebtedness to the philosophies of Jacob Boehme, Cornelius Agrippa, Paracelsus, & others.

The value of what Magee has done can best be appreciated by recalling the number of times that scholars of Hegel have pointed toward the relationship with the esoteric and mystical sources in which he had been immersed. The romantic and idealist circle at Jena seemed at times consumed with an unquenchable thirst for the Gnostic, Hermetic, theosophical, and speculative mysticism that they felt resonated with their own project. Moreover, the connection between the philosophical and the mystical does not (...) have to be discerned through some secret reading of their texts. It is openly acknowledged, and they make no secret of their admiration. Both Schelling and Hegel extensively reference Jacob Boehme, a pivotal link within this mystico-speculative tradition. Hegel singles him out in the Lectures on the History of Philosophy as the great speculative source of the modern world, comparable in significance to the Baconian empiricist foundation of natural science. With Magee’s study in hand, scholars need no longer shy away from this acknowledged connection and can certainly no longer employ the excuse of its obscurity to resist closer examination. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:276 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY appointment as the shepherd of the sheep from Christ. Nevertheless, his successors are chosen by men. Thus they are not of divine appointment and their power, in any case limited by Scriptural precept and natural law, is strictly circumscribed. Since they are placed in their position by men, they can be judged and deposed by men if they misuse their power. Throughout his career Ockham (...) violently repudiated the Avignonese papacy because it "professed errors and manifest heresies" and practiced injustice both in Church and state. He likewise regarded the college of cardinals as a purely human administrative institution and denied that they, along with the pope, were successors of the apostles. Since the Roman Church as well as the general Council could err, Ockham held that on occasion it is necessary to defend the true faith against the Roman Church, the pope, the general Council, and all the bishops and clergy (p. 277). The chief bond of Christians is the true faith. This is found both in the Scriptures and in tradition. This faith is to be maintained in its purity by true popes and general Councils. Their fidelity to the faith is the only guarantee of their authority. Therefore, a denial of, or a deviation from, the orthodox faith is heresy which he regarded as the major crime. De Lagarde severely criticizes Ockham by claiming that he reduced the Church to an aggregate of individuals bound together by common faith alone. This was destructive of the Church considered as a hierarchical and ~cramental institution. He traces Ockham's influence upon the dominant personalities of the subsequent decades all the way to Luther. The outstanding nominalists like Pierre d'Ailly and Jean Gerson, and reformers like Dietrich of Niem, John Wyclif, and John Huss, were either his professed disciples or were deeply influenced by Ockham. It may be remarked that the two last-named thinkers can hardly be included in this category: de Lagarde was either poorly informed or biased. For although he quotes in his support the two-volume works of Dora Paul de Vooght (L'h~rgsle de Jean Huss and Huss/ana), he ignores the general characterizations and the careful distinctions de Vooght makes between the positions of these two men, and repeats the uncritical views against which de Vooght energetically protests. It may also be added that the author omits a bibliography which is essential to a work of this kind. Nevertheless, his work is a massive and enlightening contribution to the hitherto neglected study of the post-Thomistic thinkers of the fourteenth century, among whom William of Ockham occupies a dominant place. MATr~sw SPINKA Claremont Graduate School and University Center Giordano Bruno and the Hermetic Tradition. By Frances A. Yates. (Chicago, University of Chicago Press, 1964. Pp. xiv + 466. $7.50.) In many ways the Renaissance of western civilization is reminiscent of Graeco-Roman Hellenism. While it is true that this parallelism cannot be drawn too closely, the similarity of the cultural forces facing both eras is instructive. This parallel suggests the importance of the resurgence of Hermetic gnosticism during the period from the fifteenth through the seventeenth centuries for an understanding of the religious and scientific developments taking place at this time. It is to this point that Profes~r Yates has written a major work of scholarship in the history of ideas. The importance of the Hermetic tradition in the intellectual framework of Renaissance religion and science is placed in its historical evolution from the time of the recovery of the texts and their translation into Latin by Ficino until its gradual decay in the seventeenth century after the correct dating of the texts by Isaac Casaubon. Obviously with so broad an undertaking it would be impossible to treat adequately in one volume the philosophical import of the ideas of the Hermetic texts and their development. Professor Yates wisely chooses Giordano Bruno as the focal point for her penetrating analysis of the Hermetic tradition as a philosophical movement. This has great significance for the student of Bruno, for as she remarks: "... it is only in putting him into the context of the history of Hermeticism in the Renaissance... (shrink)

A scholarly account of an important and previously uninvestigated aspect of Bruno's philosophy. Yates sets out in the historian's careful way to show that "Bruno's philosophy and his religion are one and the same, and both are Hermetic." A treatment of the development of the Hermetic tradition from Ficino and Pico allows the author to show that "the philosophy of the infinite universe and the innumerable worlds... is not... scientific thinking" but a continuation of the tradition which was (...) mistakenly thought to stem from an ancient Egyptian magical religion. Although this is definitely the work of an historian, any philosopher interested in the beginnings of modern science or in Renaissance thought will find it a valuable aid and contribution.—K. A. M. (shrink)

One honors a book by straightforwardly recommending it to the reader’s attention. But one also honors a book by taking it seriously enough to imagine how it could have been otherwise, or perhaps better, to the extent that one celebrates its existence, one honors it by imagining a supplement. In what follows I will honor this book in both ways, although clearly the first way is primitive. For it is only by one’s attention being grabbed by a text, by one’s (...) understanding being moved, by one’s sensibilities being engaged that one is involved enough to see beyond the text as presently constituted. InHegel and the Hermetic Tradition there is plenty to grab a Hegel scholar’s attention. Just to start with there is the provocative thesis that Hegel is decisively inf luenced by the Hermetic tradition. Here the provocation is supplied less by the 'shock value' of the thesis - although it may well be shocking to many Hegel scholars - than by the sheer thoroughness - bordering on exhaustiveness - of the analysis which shows mastery of the texts of the highly variegated Hermetic tradition as well as the texts of Hegel, both unpublished and published. There is also much to move the understanding in Magee’s meticulous tracing of the symbols and constructs of Hermeticism at work in Hegel’s texts that range from his pre-Jena writings through the Phenomenology and Encyclopaedia to the Philosophy of Right. And finally there is much to engage one’s sensibilities, for the organization of the text is first class, the reading of Hegel’s texts sensitive and perspicacious, and the writing poised, even elegant. This would be a fine book for a scholar at any stage of his or her career. For a first book it is absolutely exceptional. (shrink)

This paper deals with the “magic” of the Carpocratians, who, according to Irenaeus of Lyon, believed in the Platonic tripartite nature of the soul. The Carpocratian approach to philosophical magic is probably derived from Neoplatonic ideas popular during the first centuries of the Common Era. The Carpocrations, a second-century Christian Gnostic group, believed Yeshua was a soul personality like all other people, but because of his “spiritualization,” he reached the state of the “philosophical magician.” He did not lose his memory (...) while “staying with his Father” (while he was in the eternal sphere before his next incarnation) and, according to Irenaeus, despised the creators (angels) of the world during the ascension of the soul, a Hermetic and Neoplatonic notion. In addition, as the Christ, Yeshua overcame all emotions and passions. That is, according to the Neoplatonic tripartite nature of the soul, he overcame the emotional part of himself in favor of the spirit. This ascent gave him magical abilities such as healing and prophecy. The Carpocratians believed that each soul can achieve what Christ achieved. Ceremonial and heavenly magic was practiced by the Carpocratians, but their main goal was to achieve the complete spiritualization of the soul or the attainment of Christ Consciousness. To analyze Carpocratian magic, it is useful to use the theories of other magicians like Agrippa von Nettesheim or Iamblichus, because their ideas improve our limited understanding of the text by the Early Church Writer Irenaeus whose basic interest in the Carpocratians was heresiology. Finally, this analysis of how magic was applied by the Carpocratians could contribute to a better understanding of their philosophy. (shrink)

Philosophers have not resisted temptation to transgress against the logic of their own conceptual structures. Self-undermining position-taking is an occupational hazard. Philosophy stands in need of conceptual therapy. The author describes three conceptions of philosophy: the narcissistic, disputatious, and therapeutic. (i) Narcissistic philosophy is hermetic, believing itself to contain all evidence that can possibly be relevant to it. Philosophy undertaken in this spirit has led to defensive, monadically isolated positions. (ii) Disputatious philosophies are fundamentally question-begging, animated by assumptions (...) that philosophical adversaries reject. (iii) The intention of therapeutic philosophy is to study philosophical positions from the standpoint of their internal consistency, or lack of it. In particular, its interest is in positions that either compel assent, because they cannot be rejected without self-referential inconsistency, or self-destruct because self-referential inconsistency cannot be avoided. The article's focus is on the latter. Several examples of self-undermining positions are drawn from the history of philosophy, exemplifying two main varieties of self-referential inconsistency: pragmatical and projective. (shrink)

This paper examines the alchemical interests of Ludovico Lazzarelli and of some alchemical texts connected with his name, analyzing them within the context of Lazzarelli's Hermetic philosophical position. Beginning with an analysis of the specific relationship between alchemy and Hermeticism expressed by Lazzarelli, this paper proposes for discussion some general hypotheses on the link between alchemy and Hermeticism and between alchemy and magic in the Quattrocento.

The Hermetica are a body of mystical texts written in late antiquity, but believed during the Renaissance (when they became well known) to be much older. Their supposed author, a mythical figure named Hermes Trismegistus, was thought to be a contemporary of Moses. The Hermetic philosophy was regarded as an ancient theology, parallel to the revealed wisdom of the Bible, supporting Biblical revelation and culminating in the Platonic philosophical tradition. This new translation is the only English version based on (...) reliable texts, and Professor Copenhaver's introduction and notes make this accessible and up-to-date edition an indispensable resource to scholars. (shrink)

French philosopher Michel de Certeau wrote about seventeenth-century mysticism, religion and pluralism, architecture, everyday life, and the history of anthropology. But because critics of his works have tended to fragment it into hermetic compartments, dealing only with what is relevant to their own fields, the expansiveness of his ouevre has suffered damaging distortions in the secondary literature. This special issue of _South Atlantic Quarterly_ provides the first comprehensive view of his complete work, with contributors evaluating his weaknesses as well (...) as his strengths. With articles that engage directly—as well as theoretically—with de Certeau, this collection corrects a long-standing imbalance in the criticism by covering works from two periods about which little is known in anglophone circles: his early books on religious history and his midlife histories of mysticism and possession. It also includes critiques from queer theory and feminist theory, as well as comparative readings that assess de Certeau alongside his famous contemporary, Michel Foucault. With articles by an international array of scholars who address both the secular and the religious thinker, this special issue is the most definitive study to date of this important twentieth-century thinker. _Contributors. _Jeremy Ahearne, Frederick C. Bauerschmidt, Ian Buchanan, Philippe Carrard, Claire Colebrook, Tom Conley, Verena Andermatt Conley, Catherine Driscoll, Carla Freccero, John Frow, Richard Terdiman, Timothy Tomasik, Marie-Claire Vallois, Graham Ward. (shrink)

Bondeli starts his book with the following remark: “Hegel’s criticism of Kant’s philosophical viewpoint, with which he went public in 1800 in Jena, at the beginning of his academic teaching, is everything but presupposition-less. It is the result of a step by step appropriation, critique, and overcoming of Kant’s philosophy dating back ten years”. The goal of Bondeli’s book is to provide a new and comprehensive discussion of Hegel as a critical reader of Kant from 1790 to 1800. As is (...) well known, Hegel scholars are divided on this issue, particularly because we have no definite proof that Hegel ever read Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason before writing extensively about it in Faith and Knowledge, which appeared in 1802. Moreover, Bondeli reminds us that today it is still fairly common to characterize the foundation and methodology of new philosophical standpoints by referring to either Kant or Hegel. Also, many issues concerning the foundation of knowledge or of ethics can be identified as confrontations between Kantian or Hegelian positions. Bondeli shows, however, that there is a considerable deficit in Hegel’s arguments against Kant as we know them from Faith and Reason, the Encyclopedia, and the Lectures on History of Philosophy. In these texts Hegel deals with Kant from the rather hermetic standpoint of the system of absolute identity, while giving no proper charge to Kant but that of having remained within the realm of reflection. Bondeli tries to challenge this argumentative deficit of Hegel’s appropriation and critique of Kant by reconstructing its motives as well as the actual or the possible series of arguments. (shrink)

The mechanical philosophy that emerged during the Scientific Revolution can be characterised as a reductionism according to which all physical phenomena are to be explained in terms of corpuscles of different sizes, shapes, and motions. It provided early modern natural philosophers with a unified view of nature that contrasted primarily with the Aristotelian view of nature, but also with other naturalist, hermetic, mystic, occultist, Paracelsian, and chymical accounts. Indeed, early modern natural philosophers devised mechanical explanations of almost (...) every kind of phenomena; even supranatural phenomena, such as transubstantiation, or phenomena today described as paranormal, like the action of sympathetic powder on a wound, the influence of the stars on terrestrial events, or the identification of thieves with a divining rod, were given mechanical explanations. Confronting this explanatory deluge, historians adopted two opposing narratives. The first narrative amounted to view the mechanical philosophy as a well-identified category that captured something about early modern natural philosophy. The critical narratives of the last thirty years, however, have deconstructed both the belief that it is an adequate historical category and the conviction that it made a positive contribution to the sciences. First, in an era that privileged microscopic case studies over sweeping panoramas, and emic over etic categories, ‘mechanical philosophy’ came to be thought of as lacking any real descriptive significance. Second, from an evaluative point of view, it has been claimed that the mechanical philosophy had no impact on the development of the new sciences. Considering these descriptive and evaluative challenges, taking the mechanical philosophy at face value is historically inadequate and philosophically naïve. Hence the questions addressed in this chapter: What to do with the mechanical philosophy? Does it have to be dropped completely as a category? And, if not, how is it to be used? My view is that it captures something of the transformations that we put under the umbrella of the Scientific Revolution, but that it is not possible to treat it as a naturally given category. Rather, to be employed usefully, it needs conceptual clarification and historical specification. (shrink)

From the Editor’s Introduction: -/- THE INTERNAL LIMITATIONS OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING -/- We carry, unavoidably, the limits of our understanding with us. We are perpetually confined within the horizons of our conceptual structure. When this structure grows or expands, the breadth of our comprehensions enlarges, but we are forever barred from the wished-for glimpse beyond its boundaries, no matter how hard we try, no matter how much credence we invest in the substance of our learning and mist of speculation. -/- (...) The limitations in view here are not due to the mere finitude of our understanding of ourselves and of the world in which we live. They are limitations that come automatically and necessarily with any form of understanding. They are, as we shall see, part and parcel of any organization or ordering of data that we call information. -/- The consequences of these limitations are varied: As a result of them, hermeneutics cannot help but be hermetic; scientific theories of necessity are circumscribed by the boundaries of the ideas that define them; formal systems must choose between consistency and comprehensiveness; philosophical study, because it includes itself within its own proper subject matter, is forced to be reflexive in its self-enclosure. The fundamental dynamic shared by all forms of understanding testifies to an internal limitative keystone. (shrink)

One of the most challenging issues, essential for the actual state of science, is the search for a fragile balance between scientific normativity, openness, methodological proliferation and other key concepts, associated with the modern world of research. Paul Feyerabend understood science not as a detached and hermetic self-sufficient reality, but as a structural part of the social world, liable to politicization, discrepancies and inconsistency. His analysis of science, its strategies and institutions involved and, in a way, undermined a long (...) living concept of science as an objective, rational and neutral domain. Following his discoveries, today researchers in general, philosophers of science and social epistemologists in particular, face the problem of corrupted practices, which jeopardize the acquisition of true knowledge. According to the ideas of professor S. Turner, there are two strategies of approaching epistemic coercion: conformity or resistance. Aimed at scientific progress and sustainable development the scientists strive to overcome obstacles of technological, organizational and administrative nature. It presents the case of epistemic resistance. In other circumstances, when the mechanisms of epistemic coercion function without recognition and impediment, the epistemic environment conforms. Professor S. Turner’s article gives an in-depth analysis of epistemic coercion as a ubiquitous phenomenon, pervading intellectual and institutional practices of science and public life. Having stated the existence of the new instruments of epistemic control, he also sheds light on the requirement of the new forms of resistance. In the following article the author consequently scrutinizes the types of epistemic coercion offered by S. Turner. In order to highlight a technological perspective on all three types of epistemic coercion (information deprivation, normalizing/stigmatizing, legitimating/delegitimizing), the author places the emphasis on algorithm – based practices as a distinctive type of information deprivation. Presented from the standpoint of technological design, an algorithm could be seen as a technologically embodied form of epistemic coercion. Further on, the author argues that some of the means of resistance, given by prof. S. Turner, are more suitable to perform epistemic coercion, rather than resisting it. For instance, transparency has compromised itself as an untrustworthy concept put in use to conceal more information than to reveal. Tribalism is proven to be another arguable means of resistance because of its limiting effect on practices of open internal and external scientific communication. Finally, the author augments the list of means of epistemic coercion with construction of ignorance and coercive effect of expertise. (shrink)

This article deals with an object of Philosophy, strictly the Philosophy of Language, which concerns the study of the logic and of the dialectics. So, it proposes to analyze the dialectic-logical conceptual aspects in the Corpus Hermeticum 12.12-14a in comparison with the logical texts of the Stoicorum Veterum Fragmenta, in order to find supposed sources conformed with the hermetic text, and know how they were re-worked in it. For that, the references, descriptions and quotations of Sextus Empiricus and of (...) Diocles Magnes, apud Diogenes Laertius, they constitute important sources on the philosophical doctrines of Zenon, Cleanthes and Crysippus. One considers that the doctrine of the first part of the Corp. Herm. 12 is, often, Platonic. Nevertheless, there are realized signs of influences of stoicism. The conception about νοῦς [nous] in the man is from Platonic origin, but the expression προφοριϰὸς λόγος [prophorikos logos] is certainly Stoic. Then, the Corp. Herm. 12 is a product of a middle-stoicism or middle-Platonism, stoicizing Platonism or platonizing Stoicism, which cannot have appeared before the c. I B.C.E. Specifically, the article is interested in the dialectic-logical problem that involve some Stoic concepts, as λόγος, προφοριϰὸς λόγος, φωνή [phōnē], as well as the problem of the connective propositional logic in the platonizing process through the doctrine of νοῦς themed in the Corp. Herm. 12.12-14a, assuming a theological dimension and a divine character of λόγος, by being ἐνδιάϑετος λόγος, the thought that exists ἐν τῇ διαϑέσει, ἐν τῷ νῷ. (shrink)

Neoplatonism takes a significant turn when Iamblichus integrates a mystical perspective based on the Chaldean Oracles into his doctrine. This compilation of fragments, which can be traced back to Babylonian Zoroastrianism, emerged in Hellenistic civilization and gained prominence as hermetic texts among philosophers from the 2nd century onward. For Iamblichus, the Neoplatonic concern regarding the feasibility of a return to the One is addressed not primarily through abstract theoretical philosophy, but rather through a philosophical wisdom illuminated by theurgic (...) practice. Iamblichus affirms the legitimacy of the rites detailed in these hieratic texts by asserting that they were divinely inspired by God to Julian. Syrianus and Proclus play crucial roles in preserving and transmitting this legacy. By inheriting Iamblichus’ teachings, they not only regarded this theurgical approach as a quasi-refoundational element of Neoplatonism but also introduced their own contributions to its development. Moreover, they served as the intermediaries through whom these doctrines reached the author of the Corpus Dionysiacum. At this point, Dionysius the Areopagite enters the narrative. He revitalizes the concept of theurgy, though –as this work will endeavor to demonstrate– his effort to integrate Neoplatonism with Christianity reflects a return to Iamblichus’ original interpretation of theurgy. Dionysius’ doctrines provide a robust foundation for him to argue that the Christian rites instituted by Jesus –being performed by God himself, in and through his very person– are doubly true. Therefore, these rites assuredly lead to theosis, the sole means of achieving the union of the soul with the Christian God. (shrink)

In recent years, studies on Berthold of Moosburg have seen a significant growth, which has broadened the understanding of his philosophical thought. The Expositio super Elementationem theologicam Procli, as a comprehensive commentary on the Proclian work, is emerging in its full complexity as the project of glorification of Platonism and of Proclian sapiential perspective over Aristotelian intellectualism. In his philosophical programme, Berthold thus ascribes Avicenna to the party of the Peripatetics, places philosophers such as Avicebron as the main pillars (...) of an autonomous Platonic current, takes up Eriugenian philosophy to solidify the link between Proclus’ paganism and Christian Neoplatonism, and uses Dietrich of Freiberg’s perspectives to clarify Aristotelian doctrines. The influence that these authors had on Berthold’s thought has been the subject of the latest research findings, which have also unveiled the significance of the relation with the authors of the school of Cologne, the impact of Oxford intellectual life - especially Thomas of York - and the relevance of Hermetic philosophy. Moreover, Berthold’s work is by no means lacking in independent reflection, as can be seen from the consideration of the extensive proemial part of the Expositio and from the insights into philosophical solutions which are peculiar to Berthold, such as the doctrine of the unum animae. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:“Foucault for Psychoanalysis”Monique David-Ménard’s Kind of BluePenelope DeutscherFoucault for psychoanalysis? This is a paradoxical question. Foucault also produced a critique of psychoanalysis, aiming to show that sexuality was not an a-temporal reality, nor a truth eventually discovered by Freud. It was a discursive formation, one among others.—Eloge des hasards dans la vie sexuelle, 172.To the philosophers..A practicing psychoanalyst and a professor of philosophy, Monique David-Ménard extends a singular (...) proposition to philosophers. She is not the first philosopher to engage the assumptions of psychoanalysis, but hers is a particularly idiosyncratic suggestion for how to think with the analyst’s clinical work, intimate and alien. She has proposed we do so in the company of Gilles Deleuze,1 and most recently, in Eloge des hasards dans la vie sexuelle (2011) has extended her invitation to think with the clinic through an ingenious reading of Michel Foucault.As Eloge opens, David-Ménard’s reading of Foucault is far from the scene. Early in the work, we are asked to think with a practice, seemingly in a different register. An analyst finds herself accused of being an obstacle, of opposing the analysand’s wishes in life. In this context, we are asked to think about the blue of a painting in the room where the analysand waits (David-Ménard 2011, 34). [End Page 111]Given the criticisms of psychoanalysis elaborated in the work of Foucault and Deleuze, one might have expected these philosophers to be considered in Eloge in that stead.2 Or, one could imagine Foucault playing a role because of his genealogical analysis of the formation of the Oedipus complex.3Two years after the publication of Deleuze’s Anti-Oedipus, Foucault had, in Abnormal, characterized the desiring space of the family as stimulated in a capillary network of individualizing normalization (Foucault 2003, 257), linked by medicalized and expert concern of which parents became the auxiliaries. They are charged, and charge themselves, with the goals of family health, of preservative and defensive good parenting, and with the conduct of the child’s conduct. Foucault describes the pre-twentieth century emergence of lay and expert preoccupation with the dangers of childhood masturbation. This produces an environment whose intensive scrutiny involves a close “folding of... parents’ bodies over... children’s bodies” (ibid., 265) in a saturated, hermetic environment stimulating oedipalized desire. This means one can offer a genealogical account of the conditions of formation of the latter. These include a responsibilization of parents, who control for the presence of abnormal sex, advised by new experts (lay, medical, pseudo-scientific) in collective crusades for health and life. Thus there is differentiation through minor gradations of abnormality. Even the specificity of the architectural spaces in which scrutiny is directed plays a role in the hollowing out of the child’s putatively interior psychic-sexual life, the intense object of “palpating” interest (Foucault 1978, 45) in new apparatuses of knowledge-power (Foucault 2003, 327).Because he presents this as the context in which the “nuclear and substantial family was gradually constituted” (Foucault 2003, 264), along with its oedipal configurations of desire, Foucault emphasizes the contingency of both. Psychoanalysis would be, from his perspective, willfully indifferent to these or other possibilities for genealogical analysis of the apparatus of power, knowledge, and the body, of the repeating configurations of desire that are its special domain of expertise,4 and the emergent forms of authority associated with the analyst, described in History of Madness (Foucault 2009) and in Psychiatric Power (Foucault 2006).Perhaps we’d expect to see David-Ménard, the psychoanalyst, addressing these accounts, but they are neither repudiated in Eloge, nor extensively discussed. Far from rejecting a genealogical analysis of psychoanalysis, she promotes its promise. But this is so in a particular sense.Necessity and repetitionA particular patient might fear being “mad like her mother.” She might fear being denied, trapped, or annihilated (David-Ménard 2011, 33). She might [End Page 112] consider herself somehow denied a lover. She might seem to be denying herself a lover. There’s a degree of necessity in all these variants. Perhaps these... (shrink)

Alchemical writings of Arabic origin introduced into the Latin natural philosophy of the twelfth century a cosmological issue that was at variance with Aristotelian cosmology: the idea of a subtle substance that stood at the origin of the four elements and encompassed heaven and earth. In this article, I consider the links of this notion with Hermetic and Stoic thought; its association with the technical process of distillation; its emergence in some philosophical texts of the early thirteenth century; and (...) finally its full development in two fourteenth century alchemical treatises, the Testamentum attributed to Raimond Lull and the Liber de consideratione quintae essentiae written by John of Rupescissa. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Literature 25.1 (2001) 113-126 [Access article in PDF] Gadamer on Poetic and Everyday Language Christopher Lawn Gadamer's writings since the appearance of his ground-breaking Truth and Method 1 elaborate and defend the diverse claims of his much-contested philosophical hermeneutics. This is taken further in many recently translated essays where we witness the application of basic hermeneutical insights to areas as various as pedagogical theory and modern medical (...) practice. These investigations are important, as they testify to the universality of hermeneutics. Yet more significant in Gadamer's recent work is a pronounced turn towards "the poetic." Despite large claims in Truth and Method about the irreducibility of the linguistic, there is precious little on the poetic in this work, apart from a few asides about the relationship between poetry and the everyday language of conversation. The distinction between poetic language and everyday language of the "life world" makes a token appearance in Truth and Method (TM, pp. 469-70) and increases in significance in more recent works, especially those occasional essays devoted to aesthetics, poetics, and hermeneutically inspired readings of modern German lyric poets. 2A good deal turns on the distinction between "everyday" or "ordinary" language and "poetic" language. Gadamer's increasing appreciation of the poetic leads him into interpretations of contemporary poetry, notably the hermetic lyric of Paul Celan. 3 The different dimensions to language are brought into relief when considered in relation to the notion of play. Like the poetic, "play" and "playfulness" are cursorily mentioned in the First Part of Truth and Method as repressed aspects of the truth of the work of art. When hermeneutically reclaimed, they stand as a buttress against subjectivist, modernist versions of the aesthetic. Yet Gadamer fails to fully thematize "play," as it disappears [End Page 113] from view in Parts Two and Three of Truth and Method, losing itself in the interpretive turn towards those other facets of hermeneutic truthfulness, historicality and language. In the later essays, specifically those reflecting upon the poetic and the aesthetic, "play" becomes wider and assumes a much greater significance. Play, and this is most evident in the language of poetry, reveals itself to be a fundamental characteristic of language itself.Notions of "play" and "language-games" are more obviously associated with the later work of Wittgenstein. Many critics have observed, en passant, an obvious proximity between Wittgenstein and Gadamer, although their closeness has been noted rather than explored 4. Converging around the issue of everyday language, Gadamer and Wittgenstein radically disagree vis-à-vis "poetic language." For all his appreciation of language's specificity and consequent resistance to theory, its endless slipperiness and variety, Wittgenstein, early or late, seldom confronts language at its most opaque and elusive, that is, in the poetic.What does this Wittgensteinian silence about "poetic language" reveal? The movement away from a logic-driven picture theory of meaning (in the Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus) to the more informal, loosely textured, pragmatics of language (in the Philosophical Investigations), represents hostility to philosophical abstraction and an appreciation of the "rough ground" of ordinary, philologically speaking, "living,"language. What should we say of the literary and poetic dimensions to language, themselves significant dimensions to "living" language? The ability of the language-games to change, the capacity of language to transform itself and work in new uncharted regions--about these Wittgenstein is largely silent.Gadamer's concern with the poetic shows how many of these questions might be addressed from within another philosophical tradition. Were Wittgenstein less inscrutable, it would be tempting to regard the ordinary/poetic distinction, and its dependence upon the notion of "play," as a clear advance on the familiar language-game model. This is a temptation I partially resist. Wittgenstein's enigmatic comments, in the closing pages of the Philosophical Investigations, on "aspect-dawning," "seeing-as," gestures, and pictures, not to mention his compressed and aphoristic "poetic" style, force one to draw back from such an easy conclusion. [End Page 114] I In "Philosophy and Poetry" (OTROTB, pp. 131-39) the different aspects of language are likened to types of currency in... (shrink)

In his celebrated historic-epistemological work Identité et réalité, Émile Meyerson claimed that the scientific conservation principles were first suggested and accepted for philosophical reasons, and only afterwards were submitted to experimental tests. One of the instances he discussed in his book is the principle of mass conservation in chemical reactions. Meyerson pointed out that several authors, from Antiquity to Kant, accepted the idea of quantitative conservation of matter; and Lavoisier himself was strongly influenced by a priori ideas, using this principle (...) instead of attempting to test it. This paper will review Meyerson’s claim and historic evidence, focusing especially the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, when the principle of mass conservation was tested in highly accurate experiments. Instead of confirming the principle, some of those experiments led to the detection of anomalies. Hans Landolt, for instance, noticed that there were some small violations of the principle. He observed mass variations of about 10−6 in chemical reactions produced in hermetically sealed glass tubes. Since Landolt was a famous chemist, his results produced a strong response. Several researchers repeated his experiments, with different results. Landolt himself improved his experiments, with a balance that could detect mass changes of 10−7. After changes of the experimental procedure, the chemical reactions did not show significant mass changes. There was not, however, any “crucial experiment” “proving” that mass was conserved. The observed anomalies were set aside mainly by theoretical reasons, after the discovery of radioactivity and the development of the theory of relativity. (shrink)

Research into the so-called “philosophical” Hermetica has long been dominated by the foundational scholarship of André-Jean Festugière, who strongly emphasized their Greek and philosophical elements. Since the late 1970s, this perspective has given way to a new and more complex one, due to the work of another French scholar, Jean-Pierre Mahé, who could profit from the discovery of new textual sources, and called much more attention to the Egyptian and religious dimensions of the hermetic writings. This article addresses the (...) question of how, on these foundations, we should evaluate and understand the frequent hermetic references to profound but wholly ineffable revelatory and salvational insights received during “ecstatic” states. Festugière dismissed them as “literary fictions”, whereas Mahé took them much more seriously as possibly reflecting ritual practices that took place in hermetic communities. Based upon close reading of three central texts (CH I, CH XIII, NH VI6), and challenging existing translations and interpretations, this article argues that the authors of the hermetic corpus assumed a sequential hierarchy of “levels of knowledge”, in which the highest and most profound knowledge (gnōsis) is attained only during ecstatic or “altered” states of consciousness that transcend rationality. While the hermetic teachings have often been described as unsystematic, inconsistent, incoherent or confused, in fact they are grounded in a precise and carefully formulated doctrine of how the hermetic initiate may move from the domain of mere rational discourse to the attainment of several “trans-rational” stages of direct experiential knowledge, and thereby from the limited and temporal domain of material reality to the unlimited and eternal one of Mind. (shrink)

This paper critiques Adorno’s interpretation of Paul Celan’s poetry, as well as some of the philosophical ideas that motivate it. For Adorno, Celan’s poetry is “hermetic”—it refuses aesthetic representation; and, by virtue of this hermeticism, it expresses the horror of the Holocaust—a horror whose content is that it refuses aesthetic representation. I give a reading of Celan’s “Tenebrae,” from his 1959 collection Sprachgitter, and show that it uses aesthetic representation; that this use expresses the horror of the Holocaust; and (...) that, in comparison to this, Adorno’s concept of hermeticism is a way of concealing this horror. (shrink)

The article tries to answer the following questions: Why did Lewis Carroll\'s ideas, expressed in the form of fairy tales, fascinate numerous analytical philosophers? What does Carroll\'s contribution to the contemporary logic and philosophy consist in? The basic thesis of the article is that Lewis Carroll - remaining in the Anglo-Saxon tradition of David Hume\'s and George Berkeley\'s philosophy - supplied material illustrating the problems connected with the use of language. He showed how improper use of language leads to (...) formation of philosophical problems. The article presents Carroll\'s output. He was one of the pioneers of symbolic logic that he developed in Boole\'s and De Morgan\'s tradition - in the field of the so-called recreation mathematics that he popularized in the form of riddles, puzzles, doublets and puns, compared by some logicians to a formal system. The article presents the essence of the theory of language developed by Carroll, in which language may be something hermetic with only one person having access to it (the case of Humpty Dumpty), but also something common, something social (Alice\'s conversation with the White King). Attention is paid to the fact that Carroll differentiated between what is nonsensical and what is absurd (the criterion being its relation to logic). It is pointed that Carroll\'s aim was first of all discovering the nonsense that is hidden behind the formulation of a metaphysical problem. In the article also the connections are studied between Carroll and Ludwig Wittgenstein, the relation between them being seen in the view that absurd introduced by means of humor is a kind of vaccine that is supposed to protect us from forming absurdity in philosophy. In conclusion it is stated that Carroll\'s ideas that are the most significant for analytic philosophers are concerned with the nature of language that is not a transparent medium for him, but something that offers resistance when we communicate with others, as well as something that may be flexible and adjusted to our will. By manipulating language Carroll shows in what way philosophy balances between sense and nonsense and how often philosophical questions arise from erroneous use of language and erroneous posing of problems. (shrink)

The historian Agathias (Hist. II 30.3-31.4) relates that under the Emperor Justinian seven philosophers (Damascius, Simplicius, Eulamius, Priscianus, Hermeias, Diogenes, and Isidorus) sought refuge in Persia because of their own country's anti-pagan laws but that they ultimately returned in 532 to the Roman Empire. There have been many hypotheses about the fate of these philosophers after their return. Most recently M. Tardieu has argued that these philosophers went to Harran, a town that was located on the Persian (...) frontier and that remained mostly pagan until the tenth century. This hypothesis, which M. Tardieu had backed with a number of arguments, has found many echoes, both positive and negative, in subsequent secondary literature. Yet the complexity of the issue has never really been faced by Tardieu's critics. For example, the fact that, according to Arab sources, Simplicius could found a famous school of mathematics has been completely neglected, as has the fact that details of the dogmas of Manicheanism, which he obtained through his encounter with a member of that sect, enable one to envision a Mesopotamian locale for this encounter. The present study aims at taking stock of the elements of this controversy, beginning with a detailed article by D. Watts and a review by C. Luna. Watts mostly bases his criticisms of M. Tardieu and me on Luna's summary. In the conclusion (pages 58-59), I summarize the main points that seem to me to confirm M. Tardieu's hypothesis. (shrink)

This is the second volume in a projected five-volume work covering the full expanse of Persian philosophical thought from the Zoroastrianism of the pre-Christian era up to the present day. Volume II is devoted entirely to the work of the Isma'ili and Hermetic-Pythagorean philosophers.

Researching for the sources of the Ars geomantiae – the oldest divinatory handbook of Western geomancy, translated from Arabic into Latin by Hugo of Santalla in 12th-century northern Spain – led to a double outcome: on the one hand, it showed the nature of Hugo’s cultural competence, imbued with the texts and scientific knowledge of his time; on the other hand, it revealed a series of historico-philosophical and philological data relating to the appearance of his version. In particular, the analysis (...) of the three explicit sources of the Sayings attributed to Socrates, of the Centiloquium of pseudo-Ptolemy and of the Isagoge ad Techne Galieni of Iohannitius has allowed not only to give a direct insight into the fundamental contribution of Arabic culture in the 12th-century translation of scientific studies, but also to carry out a more certain clarification on the dating of the Ars geomantiae and its placement within the translating activity of the master of Santalla. Finally, the question of the hermeticity of the text, raised by the reference to Enoch, one of the three Hermes of Abu- Ma’šar’s legend, has specified to what extent the Ars geomantiae belongs to the Hermetic tradition. (shrink)

Marsilio Ficino (1433-1499) was one of the luminaries of the Florentine Renaissance and the scholar responsible for the revival of Platonism. The translator and interpreter of the works of both Plato and Plotinus as well as of various Hermetic and Neoplatonic texts, Ficino was also a musician, priest, magus and psychotherapist, an original philosopher and the author of a vast and important correspondence with the intellectual figures of his day including Lorenzo the Magnificent. Professor Allen has become the foremost (...) interpreter of Ficino's metaphysics and mythology, and the ancient sources they draw upon; and this collection of essays assembles his work on Ficino's complex interrogation of Platonic 'theology' as not only a preparation for Christianity but as an enduring medium for intellectuals to explore and to express Christian truths. (shrink)

Long considered to be an impenetrable, hermetic treatise, Walter Benjamin's The Origin of German Tragic Drama has rarely received the attention it deserves as a key text, central to a full understanding of his work. In this critically acclaimed study, distinguished Benjamin scholar Beatrice Hanssen unlocks the philosophical and ethical dimensions of his thought with great clarity and sophisitication.

Marcel Duchamp once asked whether it is possible to make something that is not a work of art. This question returns over and over in modernist culture, where there are no longer any authoritative criteria for what can be identified (or excluded) as a work of art. As William Carlos Williams says, “A poem can be made of anything,” even newspaper clippings.At this point, art turns into philosophy, all art is now conceptual art, and the manifesto becomes the distinctive genre (...) of modernism. This book takes seriously this transformation of art into philosophy, focusing upon the systematic interest that so many European philosophers take in modernism. Among the philosophers Gerald Bruns discusses are Theodor W. Adorno, Maurice Blanchot, Arthur Danto, Stanley Cavell, Hans-Georg Gadamer, Michel Foucault, Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari, Jacques Derrida, Jean-François Lyotard, Jean-Luc Nancy, Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe, and Emmanuel Levinas.As Bruns demonstrates, the difficulty of much modern and contemporary poetry can be summarized in the idea that a poem is made of words, not of any of the things that we use words to produce: meanings, concepts, propositions, narratives, or expressions of feeling. Many modernist poets have argued that in poetry language is no longer a form of mediation but a reality to be explored and experienced in its own right. But what sort of experience, philosophically, might this be? The problem of the materiality or hermetic character of poetic language inevitably leads to questions of how philosophy itself is to be written and what sort of communitydefines the work of art—or, for that matter, the work of philosophy.In this provocative study, Bruns answers that the culture of modernism is a kind of anarchist community, where the work of art is apt to be as much an event or experience—or, indeed, an alternative form of life—as a formal object. In modern writing, philosophy and poetry fold into one another. In this book, Bruns helps us to see how. (shrink)

This report offers argued theory & supporting evidence for how the theistic philosophy of Hermeticism intellectually coursed across time to lay groundbreaking path for the development downstream of noetic hybrids known as Neoplatonism, Esoteric Christianity, and Western Esotericism. Accordingly, it is contended that certain Hermetic tenets have long existed philosophically encoded within the foregoing hybrid approaches, ideas and/or movements— all aimed at mastering such a speculative study. Moreover, discussed theory to this report sets forth that since the dawn of (...) said/ three noetic hybrids, at their respective cores—to varying degrees—each of these Hermetic “Russian Dolls” (so to speak) has revolved religiously around a handful of tenets ever central to Hermeticism—hence this Ancient Greek creed, in part, intrinsically carried on in foundational service for: the establishment of each posed noetic hybrid; to reaffirm timeless origin story for all three; and, as a suspected cornerstone to such pagan practice per forms of so-called “secretive societies” to Western Esotericism. Through discussion & analysis of apparent facts concerning certain historical figures—such as Socrates, Plato, Plotinus, Marsilio Ficino, Giovanni Pico della Mirandola, Leonardo da Vinci, King Henry VIII and others—the chronicled contention offered herein makes it increasingly clear that, throughout the corresponding time periods to said historical figures, as well as for present-day kindred considerations, Hermeticism has always played an important psychological role (if only symbolically) whereby the Hermetic Caduceus currently serves as a standard (or symbol) for public health around the world. (shrink)

With unflinching gaze and uncompromising intensity Julius Evola analyzes the spiritual and cultural malaise at the heart of Western civilization and all that passes for progress in the modern world. As a gadfly, Evola spares no one and nothing in his survey of what we have lost and where we are headed. At turns prophetic and provocative, Revolt against the Modern World outlines a profound metaphysics of history and demonstrates how and why we have lost contact with the transcendent dimension (...) of being. The revolt advocated by Evola does not resemble the familiar protests of either liberals or conservatives. His criticisms are not limited to exposing the mindless nature of consumerism, the march of progress, the rise of technocracy, or the dominance of unalloyed individualism, although these and other subjects come under his scrutiny. Rather, he attempts to trace in space and time the remote causes and processes that have exercised corrosive influence on what he considers to be the higher values, ideals, beliefs, and codes of conduct--the world of Tradition--that are at the foundation of Western civilization and described in the myths and sacred literature of the Indo‑Europeans. Agreeing with the Hindu philosophers that history is the movement of huge cycles and that we are now in the Kali Yuga, the age of dissolution and decadence, Evola finds revolt to be the only logical response for those who oppose the materialism and ritualized meaninglessness of life in the twentieth century. Through a sweeping study of the structures, myths, beliefs, and spiritual traditions of the major Western civilizations, the author compares the characteristics of the modern world with those of traditional societies. The domains explored include politics, law, the rise and fall of empires, the history of the Church, the doctrine of the two natures, life and death, social institutions and the caste system, the limits of racial theories, capitalism and communism, relations between the sexes, and the meaning of warriorhood. At every turn Evola challenges the reader’s most cherished assumptions about fundamental aspects of modern life. A controversial scholar, philosopher, and social thinker, JULIUS EVOLA (1898-1974) has only recently become known to more than a handful of English‑speaking readers. An authority on the world’s esoteric traditions, Evola wrote extensively on ancient civilizations and the world of Tradition in both East and West. Other books by Evola published by Inner Traditions include Eros and the Mysteries of Love, The Yoga of Power, The Hermetic Tradition, and The Doctrine of Awakening. (shrink)

This volume, edited by René Brouwer and Emmanuele Vimercati, deals with the debate about fate, providence and free will in the early Imperial age. This debate is rekindled in the 1st century CE during emperor Augustus' rule and ends in the 3rd century CE with Plotinus and Origen, when the different positions in the debate were more or less fully developed. The book aims to show how in this period the notions of fate, providence and freedom were developed and debated, (...) not only within and between the main philosophical schools, that is Stoicism, Aristotelianism, and Platonism, but also in the interaction with other, "religious" movements, here understood in the general sense of groups of people sharing beliefs in and worship of (a) superhuman controlling power(s), such as Gnosticism, Hermetism as well as Judaism and Christianity. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Milton and Political CorrectnessMary Ann McGrail (bio)In the opening of the title essay of Persecution and the Art of Writing, Leo Strauss speculates:We can easily imagine that a historian living in a totalitarian country, a generally respected and unsuspected member of the only party in existence, might be led by his investigations to doubt the soundness of the government-sponsored interpretation of the history of religion. Nobody would prevent him (...) from publishing a passionate attack on what he would call the liberal view. He would of course have to state the liberal view before attacking it; he would make that statement in the quiet, unspectacular and somewhat boring manner which would seem to be but natural; he would use many technical terms, give many quotations and attach undue importance to insignificant details; he would seem to forget the holy war of mankind in the petty squabbles of pedants. Only when he reached the core of the argument would he write three or four sentences in that terse and lively style which is apt to arrest the attention of young men who love to think. That central passage would state the case of the adversaries more clearly, compellingly and mercilessly than it had ever been stated in the heyday of liberalism, for he would silently drop all the foolish excrescences of the liberal creed which were allowed to grow up during the time when liberalism had succeeded and therefore was approaching dormancy. His reasonable young reader would for the first time catch a glimpse of the forbidden fruit. The attack, the bulk of the work, would consist of virulent expansions of the most virulent utterances in the holy book or books of the ruling party. The intelligent young man who, being young, had until then been somehow attracted by those immoderate utterances, would now be merely disgusted and, after having tasted the forbidden fruit, even bored by them. Reading the book for the second and third time, he would detect in the very arrangement of the quotations from the authoritative books significant additions to those few terse statements which occur in the center of the rather short first part.[24–25]This description of exoteric writing—that is, writing with two teachings: “a popular teaching of an edifying character, which is in the foreground; and a philosophic teaching concerning the most important subject, which is indicated only between the lines” [Strauss 36]—is the principle of reading most closely associated with Strauss and Straussians. What Strauss describes here is the practice of “writing between the lines” by authors holding heterodox views, constrained by the prejudices of their audience or the vested interests of the regimes within which they write. The term is broadly misused by both opponents and students of Strauss’s work themselves and has helped to gain Straussians the mythopoetic status of hermetic school. The popular version of this theory [End Page 98] is that there are writers with secret teachings, and this occasionally lends itself to different kinds of scholarly deception and grandstanding.Strauss, in this passage, refers to the position of a writer in a totalitarian country. This might lead a writer or critic in a liberal, democratic country to conclude wrongly that this kind of writing would not appear in a liberal society where there is no direct suppression of freedom of speech. I wish to suggest in this article that Milton’s Areopagitica uses a form of exoteric writing, what Macaulay calls a “peculiar art,” which addresses itself not just to the dangers of suppression of thought from above, but also to the potential dangers of suppression of thought from below. In liberal regimes, de Tocqueville located the origins of the latter, the suppression of thought from below, in what he called the tyranny of the majority. One contemporary form of this is “political correctness,” an insistence that public writings and speeches be purified to conform to a particular view of what constitutes “unprejudiced” language. Geoffrey Hill has referred to these communally enforced constraints as “the thuggish stereotypes of political correctness,” a phrase which conveys the paradox of a concept which is based simultaneously on a certainty about the incapacity of writers... (shrink)

When authors act by either publishing or non-publishing their texts, they sometimes use a language of gestures. These gestures can assist to position the author in the intellectual field. In this way some German eighteenth-century philosophers who thought against the grain of mainstream rationalism withdrew from the public sphere, using the image of the Egyptian god Harpocrates, who puts his index finger to his lips—a symbol for maintaining silence. In a sense one can thus label this kind of quietism (...) as “harpocratism.” The essay examines the imagery and contextualizes it in three case studies from the years 1720-50. Moreover, it explores its sources in political as well as antiquarian and hermetic discourses of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The essay serves as a model for defining intellectual positions not so much by their content, but rather by their practices of symbolic distancing from others, of building identities in emotional communities, and of shaping free zones of inquiry where they could flourish. (shrink)

A selection of writings by the fifteenth-century philosopher and magus Marsilio Ficino, on the subject of astrology and natural magic. The editor's introduction provides a substantial historical and philosophical context for this figure and explains Ficino's astrology in relation to his Christian Platonic convictions"--Provided by publisher.

This paper focuses on the exegetical proposal of the Tractatus de sex dierum operibus by Thierry of Chartres and it is tasked with analyzing the twofold interpretative framework adopted by the Cancelor: first, the accordance between the narration of Genesis and the heuristic models of physical and cosmological causality; second, the mathematical theology, which revises the work of creation according to an arithmological approach. The study is divided into two parts which follow the structure of the Tractatus. In the first (...) part, I analyse the physical plausibility of Christian cosmogony and subsequently the conception of matter with regard to both William of Conches’ inordinatum and the hermetic locus mundi. In the second part, I examine how the numerical discourse interprets the creatural unfolding and dependence on God, as well as the creation per verbum and the individuality of each created being. My purpose is threefold: first, to test the inner philosophical coherence of the Tractatus; second, to interpret specific theoretical points at the light of Thierry’s commentaries on Boethius’ De Trinitate, and finally, to relate the arithmetical issues of the Tractatus to Thierry's Commentum super Arithmeticam Boethii. (shrink)

From the Editor’s Introduction: "The Internal Limitations of Human Understanding." We carry, unavoidably, the limits of our understanding with us. We are perpetually confined within the horizons of our conceptual structure. When this structure grows or expands, the breadth of our comprehensions enlarges, but we are forever barred from the wished-for glimpse beyond its boundaries, no matter how hard we try, no matter how much credence we invest in the substance of our learning and mist of speculation. -/- The limitations (...) in view here are not due to the mere finitude of our understanding of ourselves and of the world in which we live. They are limitations that come automatically and necessarily with any form of understanding. They are, as we shall see, part and parcel of any organization or ordering of data that we call information. -/- The consequences of these limitations are varied: As a result of them, hermeneutics cannot help but be hermetic; scientific theories of necessity are circumscribed by the boundaries of the ideas that define them; formal systems must choose between consistency and comprehensiveness; philosophical study, because it includes itself within its own proper subject matter, is forced to be reflexive in its self-enclosure. The fundamental dynamic shared by all forms of understanding testifies to an internal limitative keystone. (shrink)

Agrippa was the main expounder of the occult philosophy, which is the knowledge of the hidden causes of things and is finalized to their manipulation by magic. Magic, in turn, is the highest form and the end of philosophy. According to his De occulta philosophia, magic is threefold: natural (concerning sublunar world), celestial (concerning stars and heavenly intelligences), and divine (concerning God and higher angels). It consists of the manipulation of concrete objects and of the summoning of intelligences and God, (...) which is performed on the basis of the precepts of the Kabbalah. Agrippa’s overall aim was to purify magic from its necromantic and irrational components: this would enable the restoration of the prelapsarian condition of man (in accordance with the Hermetic ideal of deification) and a Christian reform of culture. The critique of philosophical knowledge and of every science, presented in Agrippa’s De vanitate, and his critique to the subordination of woman typical of Scholastic theology, contained in the De nobilitate foeminei sexus, are functional to these ends. (shrink)

The Zohar, the Cabbalistic ‘Bible’, has a special theory concerning magic. Magic, which for the Zohar is the essence of idolatry, is depicted there as identical in its form with Cabbalistic mystical theurgy, but directed not towards God but towards evil demons. This theory has been labeled in research Hermetic and Neo-Platonic, but only in general terms. This article makes a further step and finds a parallelism between a paragraph in the Zohar and a paragraph in On the Mysteries (...) of Iamblichus, the Neo-Platonic philosopher. The two paragraphs expound the above theory in similar terms, and also cite as their source a similar authority, namely eastern sages or Chaldaean prophets. This parallelism may establish a literary connection between the Zohar and Iamblichus, who may be related also in other respects. (shrink)

continent. 2.2 (2012): 66–75 ~*~ We’re Doomed. Pessimism is the night-side of thought, a melodrama of the futility of the brain, a poetry written in the graveyard of philosophy. Pessimism is a lyrical failure of philosophical thinking, each attempt at clear and coherent thought, sullen and submerged in the hidden joy of its own futility. The closest pessimism comes to philosophical argument is the droll and laconic “We’ll never make it,” or simply: “We’re doomed.” Every effort doomed to failure, every (...) project doomed to incompletion, every life doomed to be unlived, every thought doomed to be unthought. Pessimism is the lowest form of philosophy, frequently disparaged and dismissed, merely the symptom of a bad attitude. No one ever needs pessimism, in the way that one needs optimism to inspire one to great heights and to pick oneself up, in the way one needs constructive criticism, advice and feedback, inspirational books or a pat on the back. No one needs pessimism, though I like to imagine the idea of a pessimist activism. No one needs pessimism, and yet everyone—without exception—has, at some point in their lives, had to confront pessimism, if not as a philosophy then as a grievance—against one’s self or others, against one’s surroundings or one’s life, against the state of things or the world in general. There is little redemption for pessimism, and no consolation prize. Ultimately, pessimism is weary of everything and of itself. Pessimism is the philosophical form of disenchantment—disenchantment as chanting, a chant, a mantra, a solitary, monophonic voice rendered insignificant by the intimate immensity surrounding it. In pessimism, the first axiom is a long, low, funereal sigh. ~*~ We’re Still Doomed. No one has time for pessimism. After all, there are only so many hours in a day. Whatever our temperament, happy or sad, engaged or disengaged, we know pessimism when we hear it. The pessimist is usually understood as the complainer, forever pointing out what is wrong with the world without ever once offering a solution. But more often than not pessimists are the quietest of philosophers, submerging their own sighs within the lethargy of discontent. What little sound it makes is of interest to no one—“I’ve heard it all before,” “tell me something I don’t know,” sound and fury, signifying nothing. In raising problems without solutions, in posing questions without answers, in retreating to the hermetic, cavernous abode of complaint, pessimism is guilty of that most inexcusable of Occidental crimes—the crime of not pretending it’s for real. Pessimism fails to live up to the most basic tenet of philosophy—the “as if.” Think as if it will be helpful, act as if it will make a difference, speak as if there is something to say, live as if you are not, in fact, being lived by some murmuring non-entity both shadowy and muddied. Had it more self-assurance and better social skills, pessimism would turn its disenchantment into a religion, possibly calling itself The Great Refusal. But there is a negation in pessimism that refuses even such a Refusal, an awareness that, from the start, it has already failed, and that the culmination of all that is, is that all is for naught. Pessimism tries very hard to present itself in the low, sustained tones of a Requiem Mass, or the tectonic rumbling of Tibetan chant. But it frequently lets loose dissonant notes at once plaintive and pathetic. Often, its voice cracks, its weighty words abruptly reduced to mere shards of guttural sound. ~*~ Maybe It’s Not So Bad, After All. If we know pessimism when we hear it, this is because we’ve heard it all before—and we didn’t need to hear it in the first place. Life is hard enough. What you need is a change of attitude, a new outlook, a shift in perspective... a cup of coffee. If we have no ears for pessimism, this is because it is always reducible to something as reliably mutable as a voice. If pessimism is so frequently disparaged, it is because it brings everyone down, determined as it is to view each day as a bad day, if only by virtue of the fact that it is not yet a bad day. For pessimism the world is brimming with negative possibility, the collision of a bad mood with an impassive world. In fact, pessimism is the result of a confusion between the world and a statement about the world, a confusion that also prevents it from fully entering the hallowed halls of philosophy. If pessimism is so often dismissed, this is because it is often impossible to separate a “bad mood” from a philosophical proposition (and do not all philosophies stem from a bad mood?) The very term “pessimism” suggests a school of thought, a movement, even a community. But pessimism always has a membership of one—maybe two. Ideally, of course, it would have a membership of none, with only a scribbled, illegible note left behind by someone long forgotten. But this seems unrealistic, though one can always hope. ~*~ Anatomy of Pessimism. Though it may locate itself at the margins of philosophy, pessimism is as much subject to philosophical analysis as any other form of thought. Pessimism’s lyricism of failure gives it the structure of music. What time is to the music of sorrow, reason is to a philosophy of the worst. Pessimism’s two major keys are moral and metaphysical pessimism, its subjective and objective poles, an attitude towards the world and a claim about the world. For moral pessimism, it is better not to have been born at all; for metaphysical pessimism, this is the worst of all possible worlds. For moral pessimism the problem is the solipsism of human beings, the world made in our own image, a world-for-us. For metaphysical pessimism, the problem is the solipsism of the world, objected and projected as a world-in-itself. Both moral and metaphysical pessimism are compromised philosophically; moral pessimism by its failure to locate the human within a larger context, and metaphysical pessimism by its failure to recognize the complicity in the very claim of realism. This is how pessimism makes its music of the worst, a generalized misanthropy without the anthropos . Pessimism crystallizes around this futility—it is its amor fati , rendered as musical form. ~*~ Melancholy of Anatomy. There is a logic of pessimism that is fundamental to its suspicion of philosophical system. Pessimism involves a statement about a condition . In pessimism each statement boils down to an affirmation or a negation, just as any condition boils down to the best or the worst. With Schopenhauer, that arch-pessimist, the thinker for whom the philosopher and the curmudgeon perfectly overlap, we see a no-saying to the worst, a no-saying that secretly covets a yes-saying (through asceticism, mysticism, quietism), even if this hidden yes-saying is a horizon at the limits of comprehension. With Nietzsche comes the pronouncement of a Dionysian pessimism, a pessimism of strength or joy, a yes-saying to the worst, a yes-saying to this world as it is. And with Cioran yet another variation, futile yet lyrical, a no-saying to the worst, and a further no-saying to the possibility of any other world, in here or out there. With Cioran one approaches, but never reaches, an absolute no-saying, a studied abandonment of pessimism itself. The logic of pessimism moves through three refusals: a no-saying to the worst (refusal of the world-for-us, or Schopenhauer’s tears); a yes-saying to the worst (refusal of the world-in-itself, or Nietzsche’s laughter); and a no-saying to the for-us and the in-itself (a double refusal, or Cioran’s sleep). Crying, laughing, sleeping—what other responses are adequate to a life that is so indifferent? ~*~ Cosmic Pessimism. Both moral and metaphysical pessimism point to another kind, a pessimism that is neither subjective nor objective, neither for-us nor in-itself, and instead a pessimism of the world-without-us. We could call this a cosmic pessimism ... but this sounds too majestic, too full of wonder, too much the bitter aftertaste of the Great Beyond. Words falter. And so do ideas. And so we have a cosmic pessimism, a pessimism that is first and last a pessimism about cosmos , about the necessity and possibility of order. The contours of cosmic pessimism are a drastic scaling-up or scaling-down of the human point of view, the unhuman orientation of deep space and deep time, and all of this shadowed by an impasse, a primordial insignificance, the impossibility of ever adequately accounting for one’s relationship to thought—all that remains of pessimism is the desiderata of affects—agonistic, impassive, defiant, reclusive, filled with sorrow and flailing at that architectonic chess match called philosophy, a flailing that pessimism tries to raise to the level of an art form (though what usually results is slapstick). ~*~ Song of Futility. An ethics of futility pervades pessimism. Futility, however, is different from fatality, and different again from simple failure (though failure is never simple). Failure is a breakage within the heart of relations, a fissure between cause and effect, a fissure hastily covered over by trying and trying again. With failure, there is always plenty of blame to go around; it’s not my fault, it’s a technical difficulty, it’s a miscommunication. For the pessimist, failure is a question of “when,” not “if”—failure as a metaphysical principle. Everything withers and passes into an obscurity blacker than night, everything from the melodramatic decline of a person’s life to the banal flickering moments that constitute each day. Everything that is done undone, everything said or known destined for a kind of stellar oblivion. When scaled up in this way, failure becomes fatality. Fatality is the hermeticism of cause and effect. In fatality, everything you do, whatever you do, always leads to a certain end, and ultimately to the end—though that end, or the means to that end, remain shrouded in obscurity. Nothing you do makes a difference because everything you do makes a difference. Hence the effects of your actions are hidden from you, even as you deceive yourself into thinking that, at last, this time you will outwit the order of things. By having a goal, planning ahead, and thinking things through carefully, we attempt, in a daily Prometheanism, to turn fatality to our advantage, to gain a glimpse of an order that seems buried deeper and deeper in the fabric of the universe. But even fatality has its comforts. The chain of cause and effect may be hidden from us, but that’s just because disorder is the order we don’t yet see; it’s just complex, distributed, and requires advanced mathematics. Fatality still clings to the sufficiency of everything that exists... When fatality relinquishes even this idea, it becomes futility. Futility arises out of the grim suspicion that, behind the shroud of causality we drape over the world, there is only the indifference of what exists or doesn’t exist; whatever you do ultimately leads to no end, an irrevocable chasm between thought and world. Futility transforms the act of thinking into a zero-sum game. ~*~ Song of the Worst. At the center of pessimism lies the term pessimus , “the worst,” a term as relative as it is absolute. The worst is about as bad as it gets, “the worst” as “the best” in disguise, shrouded by the passage of time or the twists and turns of fortune. For the pessimist, “the worst” is the propensity for suffering that gradually occludes each living moment, until it eclipses it entirely, overlapping perfectly in death... which, for the pessimist, is no longer “the worst.” Pessimism is marked by an unwillingness to move beyond “the worst,” something only partially attributable to a lack in motivation. In pessimism “the worst” is the ground that gives way beneath every existent—things could be worse, and , things could be better. “The worst” invariably implies a value judgment, one made based on scant evidence and little experience; in this way, pessimism’s greatest nemesis is its moral orientation. Pessimism’s propositions have all the gravitas of a bad joke. Perhaps this is why the true optimists are the most severe pessimists—they are optimists that have run out of options. They are almost ecstatically inundated by the worst. Such an optimism is the only possible outcome of a prolonged period of suffering, physical or metaphysical, intellectual or spiritual. But does this not also describe all the trials and tribulations of each day—in short, of “life?” It seems that sooner or later we are all doomed to become optimists of this sort (the most depressing of thoughts...) ~*~ Song of Doom. Rather than serving as a cause for despair, gloom and doom are the forms of consolation for any pessimist philosophy. Neither quite affects nor quite concepts, gloom and doom transform pessimism into a mortification of philosophy. Doom is not just the sense that all things will turn out badly, but that all things inevitably come to an end, irrespective of whether or not they really do come to an end. What emerges from doom is a sense of the unhuman as an attractor, a horizon towards which the human is fatally drawn. Doom is humanity given over to unhumanity in an act of crystalline self-abnegation. Gloom is not simply the anxiety that precedes doom. Gloom is literally atmospheric, climate as much as impression, and if people are also gloomy, this is simply the by-product of an anodyne atmosphere that only incidentally involves human beings. Gloom is more climatological than psychological, the stuff of dim, hazy, overcast skies, of ruins and overgrown tombs, of a misty, lethargic fog that moves with the same languorousness as our own crouched and sullen listening to a disinterested world. In a sense, gloom is the counterpoint to doom—what futility is to the former, fatality is to the latter. Doom is marked by temporality—all things precariously drawn to their end—whereas gloom is the austerity of stillness, all things sad, static, and suspended, a meandering smoke hovering over cold lichen stones and damp fir trees. If doom is the terror of temporality and death, then gloom is the horror of a hovering stasis that is life. At times I like to imagine that this realization alone is the thread that connects the charnel ground Aghori and the graveyard poets. ~*~ Song of Spite. There is an intolerance in pessimism that knows no bounds. In pessimism spite begins by fixing on a particular object of spite—someone one hardly knows, or someone one knows too well; a spite for this person or a spite for all of humanity; a spectacular or a banal spite; a spite for a noisy neighbor, a yapping dog, a battalion of strollers, the meandering idiot walking in front of you on their smart phone, large loud celebrations, traumatic injustices anywhere in the world regurgitated as media blitz, spite for the self-absorbed and overly performative people talking way too loud at the table next to you, technical difficulties and troubleshooting, the reduction of everything to branding, spite of the refusal to admit one’s own errors, of self-help books, of people who know absolutely everything and make sure to tell you, of all people, all living beings, all things, the world, the spiteful planet, the inanity of existence... Spite is the motor of pessimism because it is so egalitarian, so expansive, it runs amok, stumbling across intuitions that can only half-heartedly be called philosophical. Spite lacks the confidence and the clarity of hatred, but it also lacks the almost cordial judgment of dislike. For the pessimist, the smallest detail can be an indication of a metaphysical futility so vast and funereal that it eclipses pessimism itself—a spite that pessimism carefully places beyond the horizon of intelligibility, like the experience of dusk, or like the phrase, “it is raining jewels and daggers.” ~*~ Song of Sleep. A paraphrase of Schopenhauer: what death is for the organism, sleep is for the individual. Pessimists sleep not because they are depressed, but because for them sleep is a form of ascetic practice. Sleep is the askesis of pessimism. If, while sleeping, we have a bad dream, we abruptly wake up, and suddenly the horrors of the night vanish. There is no reason to think that the same does not happen with the bad dream we call “life.” ~*~ Song of Sorrow. Nietzsche, commenting on pessimism, once castigated Schopenhauer for taking things too lightly. He writes: ...Schopenhauer, though a pessimist, really —played the flute. Every day, after dinner: one should read his biography on that. And incidentally: a pessimist, one who denies God and the world but comes to a stop before morality—who affirms morality and plays the flute... what? Is that really—a pessimist? We know that Schopenhauer did possess a collection of instruments, and we also know that Nietzsche himself composed music. There is no reason to think that either of them would ever banish music from the Republic of philosophy. But Nietzsche’s jibes at Schopenhauer are as much about music as they are about pessimism. For the pessimist who says no to everything and yet finds comfort in music, the no-saying of pessimism can only be a weak way of saying yes—the weightiest statement undercut by the flightiest of replies. The least that Schopenhauer could’ve done is to play the bass. I’m not a big fan of the flute, or, for that matter, wind instruments generally. But what Nietzsche forgets is the role that the flute has historically played in Greek tragedy. In tragedy, the flute ( aulos ) is not an instrument of levity and joy, but of solitude and sorrow. The Greek aulos not only expresses the grief of tragic loss, but it does so in a way that renders weeping and singing inseparable from each other. The classicist Nicole Loraux calls this the mourning voice . Set apart from the more official civic rituals of funerary mourning, the mourning voice of Greek tragedy constantly threatens to dissolve song into wailing, music into moaning, and the voice into a primordial, disarticulate anti-music. The mourning voice delineates all the forms of suffering—tears, weeping, sobbing, wailing, moaning, and the convulsions of thought reduced to an elemental unintelligibility. In the collapsed space between the voice that speaks and the voice that sings, pessimism discovers its mourning voice. Pessimism: the failure of sound and sense, the disarticulation of phone and logos . Have we rescued Schopenhauer from Nietzsche? Probably not. Perhaps Schopenhauer played the flute to remind himself of the real function of the mourning voice—sorrow, sighs, and moaning rendered indistinguishable from music, the crumbling of the human into the unhuman. Failure par excellence of pessimism. ~*~ Song of Nothing. In Buddhist thought, the First Noble Truth of existence is encapsulated in the Pali term dukkha , conventionally translated as “suffering,” “sorrow,” or “misery.” The Buddhist teachings are clear, however, that this is an objective claim, and not simply one point of view among others. Existence is suffering and sorrow—and yet this is not, the teachings tell us, a pessimistic attitude. It is likely that Schopenhauer, reading the Buddhist texts available to him, recognized some filiation with the concept of dukkha . But dukkha is a multi-faceted term. There is, certainly, dukkha in the usual sense of the suffering, strife, and loss associated with living a life. But this is, in turn, dependent on the finitude and temporality of dukkha , existence as determined by impermanence and imperfection. And this ultimately points to the way in which both suffering and finitude are grounded by the paradoxical groundlessness of dukkha as a metaphysical principle—the insubstantiality and the emptiness of all that is. Beyond what is worse to me, beyond a world ordered for the worst, there is the emptiness of dukkha as an impersonal suffering... the tears of the cosmos. In this context, it is easy to see how Schopenhauer’s pessimism attempts to compress all the aspects of dukkha into a nothingness at the core of existence, a Willlessness coursing through the Will. Though one thing for certain is that with Schopenhauer we do not find the “ever-smiling” countenance of Buddhism—or do we? The texts of the Pali Canon also contain lists of the different types of happiness—including the happiness of renunciation and the strange happiness of detachment. But Buddhism considers even the different types of happiness as part of dukkha , in this final sense of nothingness or emptiness. Perhaps Schopenhauer understood Buddhism better than he is usually given credit for. Thus the experiment of Schopenhauer’s philosophy—the point at which a Western pessimus and an Eastern dukkha overlap or exchange glances. Empty sorrow, a lyricism of indifference. The result is a strange, and ultimately untenable, nocturnal form of Buddhism. ~*~ Cioran once called music a “physics of tears.” If this is true, then perhaps metaphysics is its commentary. Or its apology. ~*~ Pessimism would be more mystical were it not for its defeatism. Mysticism is much too proactive for the pessimist, and pessimism too impassive even for the mystic. At the same time, there is something enviable about mysticism—despite its sufferings. There is a sense in which pessimists are really failed mystics. ~*~ You, the Night, and the Music. In a suggestive passage, Schopenhauer once noted that, “music is the melody to which the world is the text." Given Schopenhauer’s view on life—that life is suffering, that human life is absurd, that the nothingness before my birth is equal to the nothingness after my death—given all this, one wonders what kind of music Schopenhauer had in mind when he described music as the melody to which the world is text—was it opera, a Requiem Mass, a madrigal, or perhaps a drinking song? Or something like Eine kleine Nachtmusik , a little night music for the twilight of thought, a sullen nocturne for the night-side of logic, an era of sad wings sung by a solitary banshee. Perhaps the music Schopenhauer had in mind is music eliminated to non-music. A whisper would suffice. Perhaps a sigh of fatigue or resignation, perhaps a moan of despair or sorrow. Perhaps a sound just articulate enough that it could be heard to dissipate. ~*~ Teach me to laugh through tears. ~*~ Pessimism always falls short of being philosophical. My back aches, my knees hurt, I couldn’t sleep last night, I’m stressed-out, and I think I’m finally coming down with something. Pessimism abjures all pretenses towards system—towards the purity of analysis and the dignity of critique. We didn’t really think we could figure it out, did we? It was just passing time, taking a piss, something to do, a bold gesture put forth in all its fragility, according to rules that we have agreed to forget that we made up in the first place. Every thought marked by a shadowy incomprehension that precedes it, and a futility that undermines it. That pessimism speaks, in whatever voice, is the singing testimony to this futility and this incomprehension—take a chance and step outside, lose some sleep and say you tried... ~*~ Is there a music of pessimism? And would such a music be audible? ~*~ The impact of music on a person compels them to put their experience into words. When this fails, the result is a faltering of thought and language that is itself a kind of music. Cioran writes: “Music is everything. God himself is nothing more than an acoustic hallucination.” ~*~ If a thinker like Schopenhauer has any redeeming qualities, it is that he identified the great lie of Western culture—the preference for existence over non-existence. As he notes: “If we knocked on the graves and asked the dead whether they would like to rise again, they would shake their heads.” In Western cultures it is commonly accepted that one celebrates birth and mourns death. But there must be a mistake here. Wouldn’t it make more sense to mourn birth and celebrate death? Strange though, because the mourning of birth would, presumably, last the entirety of that person’s life, so that mourning and living would the be same thing. ~*~ To the musical idea of the harmony of the universe corresponds the philosophical principle of sufficient reason. Like the music of mourning, pessimism gives voice to the inevitable breakdown of word and song. In this way, music is the overtone of thought. ~*~ The Patron Saints of Pessimism. The patron saints of pessimism watch over suffering. Laconic and sullen, the patron saints of pessimism never seem to do a good job at protecting, interceding, or advocating for those who suffer. Perhaps they need us more than we need them. Lest we forget, there do exist patron saints of philosophy, but their stories are not happy ones. There is, for instance, the fourth century Saint Catherine of Alexandria, or Catherine of the Wheel, named after the torture device used on her. A precocious fourteen year old scholar, Catherine was subject to continual persecution. After all forms of torture failed—including the “breaking wheel”—the emperor finally settled for her decapitation, a violent yet appropriate reminder of the protector of philosophers. There are also patron saints of music and musicians, but theirs too are sad stories. In the second century, Saint Cecilia was also subject to persecution and torture. As she knelt to receive the blade that would separate her head from her body, she ardently sang a song to God. It took three attempts before she was fully decapitated, all the while she continued, perhaps miraculously, to sing. Does pessimism not deserve its own patron saints, even if they are unworthy of martyrdom? But in our search, even the most ardent nay-sayers frequently lapse into brief moments of enthusiasm—Pascal’s love of solitude, Leopardi’s love of poetry, Schopenhauer’s love of music, Nietzsche’s love of Schopenhauer, and so on. Should one then focus on individual works of pessimism? We could include Kierkegaard’s trilogy of horror— Sickness Unto Death , The Concept of Dread , and Fear and Trembling —but all these are undermined by their fabricated and unreliable authors. Besides, how can one separate the pessimist from the optimist in works like Unamuno’s The Tragic Sense of Life , Shestov’s Postetas Clavium , or Edgar Saltus’ under-read The Philosophy of Disenchantment ? Even in cases where the entire corpus of an author is pessimistic, the project always seems incomplete—witness Cioran’s trajectory, from his first book, On the Heights of Despair , to the last unpublished notebooks of acrid and taut aphorisms. And this is to say nothing of literary pessimism, from Goethe’s sorrowful Werther, to Dostoevsky’s underground man, to Pessoa’s disquiet scribbler; Baudelaire’s spleen and ennui, the mystical Satanism of Huysmans and Strindberg, the hauntologies of Mário de Sá-Carniero, Izumi Kyoka, H.P. Lovecraft, grumpy old Beckett... even the great pessimist comedians. All that remains are singular, perhaps anomalous statements of pessimism, a litany of quotes and citations crammed into fortune cookies. Patron saints are traditionally named after a locale, either a place of birth or of a mystical experience. Perhaps the better approach is to focus on the places where pessimists were forced to live out their pessimism—Schopenhauer facing an empty Berlin lecture hall, Nietzsche mute and convalescent at the home of his sister, Wittgenstein the relinquished professor and solitary gardener, Cioran grappling with Alzheimer’s in his tiny writing alcove in the Latin Quarter. ~*~ There’s a ghost that grows inside of me, damaged in the making, and there’s a hunt sprung from necessity, elliptical and drowned. Where the moving quiet of our insomnia offers up each thought, there’s a luminous field of grey inertia, and obsidian dreams burnt all the way down. ~*~ If pessimism has any pedagogical value, it is that the failure of pessimism as a philosophy is inextricably tied to the failure of pessimism as voice. I read the following, from Shestov’s The Apotheosis of Groundlessness : When a person is young he writes because it seems to him he has discovered a new almighty truth which he must make haste to impart to forlorn humankind. Later, becoming more modest, he begins to doubt his truths: and then he tries to convince himself. A few more years go by, and he knows he was mistaken all round, so there is no need to convince himself. Nevertheless he continues to write, because he is not fit for any other work, and to be accounted a superfluous person is so horrible. (shrink)